Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [46]
“Mont can’t be Professor Baldwin’s only enemy,” Dr. Crusher said. “Maybe they’re trying to make Baldwin a nonperson, discredit him that way.”
“No, Doctor,” said Picard. “I believe that Commander Riker is correct.”
“For what reason?” Dr. Crusher asked.
The answer was obvious to Picard. Particularly given Baldwin’s private comments about wanting, needing, to disappear. In an information-intensive society such as the Federation, the place to start would be with the records. How better to proceed than by using a computer virus designed to wipe out every mention of his name, every bit of evidence he ever existed? Picard did not feel free to mention any of this, not even now. But he would have to speak with Eric Baldwin very soon.
Picard said, “Something Professor Baldwin said to me. Mr. La Forge, why didn’t your diagnostic program find Baldwin’s virus when it searched the computer? More important, why didn’t the machete program clear it?”
“When we find that out,” La Forge said, “we’ll know how to get rid of the virus. I say we start finding out by talking to Professor Baldwin.”
Riker touched his insignia and said, “Lieutenant Worf.”
“Here, Commander.” Worf’s voice pierced the room like a steel shaft.
“Bring Professor Baldwin to the conference lounge on deck one.”
“Belay that order, Mr. Worf.”
“Aye, Captain,” Worf said, sounding a little confused.
Riker’s eyebrows were up, which meant the captain had surprised him. Picard had almost succeeded in surprising himself. He said, “I’ll speak to him first.”
“Very well, sir,” Riker said in a tone that meant he was willing to go along with Picard, for the moment anyway. One of the things that made Riker valuable was that he knew when to disagree with his superior officer. Picard knew that time would come soon. But Riker trusted him and would allow him some rope.
When Picard stood up, the others did as well. He said, “Mr. La Forge, I want you and Mr. Data to track down, analyze, and counteract the Boogeyman-virus combination. Minimal use of the computer, if you please.”
La Forge nodded and said, “We’ll use tricorders.” He strode out.
“The rest of you stay alert,” Picard said. “If you have any ideas, even if they seem ridiculous, please see Mr. La Forge. This situation does not seem to welcome conservative thinking.”
Dr. Crusher and Commander Riker followed La Forge onto the bridge. When the doors closed, Picard said, “What is it, Mr. Crusher?”
“I’m sorry, Captain.”
“For what?”
“For the Boogeymen. For the mess we’re in now.”
“It seems that we’ve both made a number of mistakes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are determined to take this all on your own shoulders.”
“Well, yes, sir. If it hadn’t been for the Boogeymen—”
Picard sighed and said, “Mr. Crusher, I would like to quote a poem to you.”
“Yes, sir,” Wesley said, bewildered.
Picard recited:
“Once in a stately passion
I cried with desperate grief,
‘O Lord, my heart is black with guile,
Of sinners I am chief.’
Then stooped my guardian angel
And whispered from behind,
‘Vanity, my little man,
You’re nothing of the kind.’
“Do you understand, Wesley? It is sometimes arrogant to claim all the guilt.”
Picard caught Wesley trying not to smile and said, “Go. Try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wesley went out, leaving Picard to ponder his own arrogance. He sighed again and left the conference lounge.
In Engineering, La Forge discovered that Data had gone to his cabin. La Forge took the turbolift back up and pushed the announce button outside Data’s door.
Data said, “Cub in.”
“Cub in?” La Forge said as he entered. He found Data sitting at his desk surrounded by an incredible array of stuff: stacks of bound books, a game generator with a number of game chips, a box of tissues. Nearby was a cup of room-temperature brown liquid with a foamy white island floating on the surface—hot chocolate with a marshmallow. In Data’s mouth was a glass tube no larger than a pencil, and on top of his head was a sack that sat there like a small lumpy mountain. He was dressed in a blue robe held closed by a golden cord.
“Data, what